The Last Family
by Mr. Fox
Summary: Ivan knew them well. How could he not? Join us as we take a look at the love and anger, the comedy and tragedy, the madness and masterpeice that was The Last Family of Romanov!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I**

_**St. Petersburg, 1894**_

"God save the Tzar!"

The chant echoed three times through the large church, as the many counts, duchesses and aristocrats from every corner of the Empire stood and bowed to their new Tzar, Nicholas the II. And standing there to, shouting almost as loud as the rest was Ivan, dressed in his best Imperial uniform. As the new Tsar descended with his procession out the church, Ivan couldn't help but blush a bit. This man was going to bring great change!

Ivan could remember as if it were yesterday, how the late Tsar Alexander III had introduced them. At first Russia was doubtful. Nicholas was much more shy than his brothers, and certainly not as boisterous as his bear of a father! But over time Ivan could tell that the boy was growing into a fine young gentleman. Surely he would bring pride to the House of Romanov!

Ivan blinked a few time returning to the present, bowing low as the Tsar walked past where he was sat. For a brief moment they made eye contact, and Russia was almost certain the young man had winked at him! The nation stifled a chuckle, realizing that Nicholas was indeed the only person present who knew what Ivan really was.

Ivan's usual Cheshire cat grin grew wider, as he watched the grand, golden robed Tsar exit through the doors and was escorted into an even grander carriage.

After the Tsar and his entourage had left, the lesser royals began filing to their own carriages, to quickly dash to the Royal Palace were a grand ball would be held.

As Ivan began to enter his own carriage he heard someone shout from behind him, "Count Braginski!"

Ivan turned around to see a rather large, and merry looking royal approach him. The man had a bushy red beard, and bald shiny head. He was in all appearances the traditional Russian aristocrat, except he wore a sharp tuxedo. It was quite in contrast to the younger Ivan's traditional Cossack uniform.

He smiled and replied in surprise, "Constantin! How are you my friend?"

"I've been better! My carriage driver is drunk and I can't find another one." He cocked a bushy eyebrow at Ivan, "Could I trouble you for a ride to the Palace?"

"Of course. Hop in!"

And with that the two were speeding through the icy streets of St. Petersburg. They chatted the whole way about the city, and of course how retched the winter had been that year. Although Constantin complained more than Ivan. Ivan liked the cold himself, appreciating it's numbing nature.

After a long moment, the two men gradually went silent, staring out their respective windows. Occasionally Constantin would point out a certain landmark but it was nothing new to Ivan, even though he acted as if it was. He was there when most of these building went up!

They were at least fifteen minutes away from the palace when Constantin suddenly said, "Terrible shame what happened on Khodinka field."

Ivan raised a pale eyebrow at the man. "What happened on Khodinka field?"

Constantin looked disbelievingly at Ivan. "What, you didn't hear? At least 1300 dead!"

Ivan furrowed his brow, his mouth hanging open in shock for a moment. It was unusual for him to not know what was going on. "How?"

Constantin shook his large head and said, "A tragic thing. They where passing out bread to celebrate the Tzar's coronation, and the crowd became so large that a riot broke out and some were trampled to death."

Ivan felt a knot form in his stomach. "Oh dear."

"That's not the worst of it!" continued Constantin, though Ivan couldn't see how it could be worse. "The peasants are unhappy that the coronation date wasn't changed due to it!"

Ivan balked at this revelation, releasing a small chuckle. Oh those peasants. Had they no since of tradition? Of course the Tsar was sorry for the tragedy, but really? Like they were going to change over 300 years of tradition for a few over-zealous peasants.

Finally they arrived at the palace and Ivan removed his cloak, as did Constantin. They were then led by a well dressed butler to the grand ball room.

"Count Braginski and Count Constantin!" he announced to the other guests.

"Ivan!" shouted Nicholas, who was seated in an immaculate, gold throne next to his wife Alexandra. Where as the young Tsar seemed jovial, the Tsarina seemed the exact opposite. She had a shy look on her fair features, he gloved hands resting on her lap. She seemed very out of place in this large room, with these colorful royals!

Ivan noticed her only for a moment, as he and Constantine approached the beckoning Tsar. They bowed low, and Nicholas returned the bow with a slight nod. "My dear Ivan I'm so glad you came. And Contantin! I haven't seen you since we took that trip to the Black Sea."

"A pleasure as always your majesty," replied the plump man bowing once again.

As Constantin sat and talked with Nicholas, Ivan continued to stare at Alexandra. She could since he was staring, for she turned and their eyes met. Ivan quickly looked at the floor, acting as if he was totally enthralled by it. The Tsarina giggled softly, covering her mouth. She then leaned over and whispered something into Nicholas' ear. The man looked at Ivan and grinned saying, "Well Ivan, I hate to interrupt your admiring the floor, but if you would honor me and my wife with your conversation we'd be delighted!"

They all laughed at this, and Ivan even had to chuckle. He had had many other Tsars before, no reason to be so afraid of this one. As they talked on and on, Ivan would occasionally drink a glass of wine, or watch the many people dance. He even joined a few! He hadn't felt this happy in a long time. Indeed, he couldn't remember having a leader as kind hearted, or friendly as Nicholas. Ivan knew deep in his heart of hearts that under Nicky they would truley be destined for great things!

**(I may not continue this story right off the bat, so tell me what you guys think and I'll judge from your reviews whether or not to continue.) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

_**Summer, 1895**_

It was a particularly dry summer this year and Ivan, deciding to take advantage of it was outside his _dacha_, tending to his garden with the servants. He paid special attention to his favorite sunflowers, giving them generous amounts of water and trimming their emerald green leaves. After the extravagance of St. Petersburg, it was nice to finally be back in the countryside.

Ivan spent the whole winter in the city, mostly with the Tsar at _Tsarskoye Selos, _the Royal palace. Ivan would much rather spend a winter in the city with his leader, than out in the country where General Winter was merciless. Ivan shook off the unpleasant thought, returning to his flowers. When he was done he stood up, wiping sweat off on the sleeve of his _Kosovorotka. _He looked up and squinted at the sun, deciding he'd be better off just removing the shirt altogether.

Ivan barley had the garment over his shoulders before he heard a small giggle. He pulled the shirt off and looked around for the source of the giggle. He turned and spied two young servant girls looking at him from a row of corn stalks. One of them playfully stuck her tongue out at Ivan, while the other one whispered something. They both giggled even louder, until an older woman came over and scolded them. She then shooed them off to another part of the garden.

Ivan raised an eyebrow at how strange the girls had acted, and looked at himself. In reality he was quite handsome and tall, with a very toned stature and muscles gained from years of farm work (among other things.) However, he could not see any of this himself and dismissed the girl's strange behavior on the heat. He then tossed his shirt aside and went back to his work, going about pulling any excess weeds that might be in the garden.

As he worked his mind slowly began to go back to St. Petersburg, and the General. Could that old specter give him no peace of mind? Even during the warm and pleasant summers he was still haunted by thoughts of the old man. Though the winter at _Tsarskoye Selos _had been a pleasant one, there where times when Ivan felt as if he was being watched, and when he slept he had always ordered his curtains shut, should the General haunt him at night. Even then, he would always see a dark silhouette that never left until morning.

"Count Braginski, is something the matter?"

Ivan snapped back to the present. He had dropped the weeds he had been picking and was staring off into the woods. He turned around to see the question had been asked by an old, severe looking woman with small spectacles perched on her beak of a nose.

"Oh Catherine," he began to the old woman. "Yes everything is fine."

Catherine straightened her glasses, looking at Ivan closely. "Are you sure sir. You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Ivan shuddered a bit, but then hastily replied, "_Da. _Everything is fine. The heat must be getting to me. I think I should go lay down."

"I'll have one of the maids bring some tea."

"Thank you, that would be nice," replied Ivan a bit embarrassed. He quickly picked up his shirt and walked to the _dacha_.

Once indoors he went straight to his living room and collapsed on the sofa. That's what he needed. A good long nap. But just as he started to doze off, he heard someone clear their throat lightly. He opened his eyes and standing over him was one of the girls from before, holding a tray of tea.

"Oh! I'd almost forgotten," apologized Ivan, as he hastily threw on his shirt. It wasn't becoming of a young man to be shirtless in doors.

The girl suppressed a small laugh and sat the tray on the coffee table . "I was told your Excellency wanted tea."

"Yes, thank you," mumbled Ivan who took the glass, sipping at the amber liquid.

The girl turned to go, but Ivan stopped her saying, "Wait. I was just wondering. What were you and your friend laughing about today in the garden?"

She turned around and replied blushing, "Oh nothing. Just well-"

"Hmm?"

"Well sir… We both had never seen a man shirtless before."

It was a lame excuse, but Ivan bought it all the same.

"Really? That's odd."

The girl smiled. "Especially such a man as handsome as his Excellency."

Now it was Ivan's turn to blush. He felt almost as if he were back in the summer's heat. "Well um… thank you. But I'm not _that _handsome. In fact I think I've actually gained weight if anything."

The girl looked Ivan up and down quickly, before replying, "Well I think-"

"Feadora!"

They both looked and standing in the door way with her arms crossed was Catherine. "You naughty girl. I said give Count Braginski his tea and then go back to you chores!"

"Oh she's not any trouble," said Ivan feeling a little sorry for the girl. But Feadora mumbled an apology to Catherine and curtsied to Ivan awkwardly, before leaving the room.

Ivan watched her go, then sighed looking into his glass. Catherine shook her head as she watched Feadora leave before turning back to Ivan. "I'm very sorry sir. She's new and is still getting use to things."

Ivan still looked at his glass as he replied in a bored tone, "It's fine."

Catherine nodded absent mindedly and looked around the room a bit. Then she suddenly remembered something. "Oh yes. A message came for you today from St. Petersburg."

She crossed the room, and reached into the pocket of her apron pulling out a sealed envelope handing it to Ivan. She then curtsied stiffly and left the room.

Ivan looked at the envelope and after a moment of thought tore it open. Inside was a very official letter, inviting him to join the Tsar at Paris to lay the first brick at a bridge in honor of his late father Alexander III. Just what Ivan needed. A trip to Paris, that would get his mind of off winter.

He sat up, went to his desk and began to reply. By the time he was finished his mood was as warm as the summer sun. Winter was a long way off. He hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III**

"Count Braginski. Count Braginski!"

Ivan stirred from an uncomfortable sleep, made all the more so by the rattling, and bouncing carriage over the country road. He sat himself upright to look groggily at Catherine, who was sitting across from him.

"I hate to disturb you sir," began the old woman, "but I've been informed by the driver that a heavy rain storm has started up and we shall have to stop for the night."

The young man rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked wearily out at the darkening sky.

"Da Catherine, I agree. We shall have to send a wire to St. Petersburg tomorrow, explaining my being late."

"Very good sir."

The two then stared out of their respective windows, watching the countryside go by. Ivan couldn't care less. It was all so typically...Russian, he thought. The large wheat fields, the peasants and occasional shacks that passed for houses. The young man released a slight sigh of contempt. He had really let himself go!

About an hour later they arrived at a small, but quant village. Catherine was going about organizing servants and seeing to the luggage, while Ivan walked down the narrow, muddy strips of earth that passed for roads here. He was about to turn back when something caught his eye.

A man, thin as a rake and adorned in a black robe was walking intently towards him. Something was very unsettling about him, and Ivan could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

The man was tall, and very thin. He appeared to be clad like a priest and had a scraggily, greasy beard to match. His hair was long, and unkempt sticking this way and that. And his eyes! They were dark, almost hypnotic like a cat's. He was like some ghoul from a fairy tail, or a wildman from some long age past.

The man must have caught Ivan's staring for he stopped and stared back, his deep black eyes defiantly meeting Ivan's violet. They stood that way for some time, almost as if they were having a conversation without words. Finally the man spoke, giving a crooked grin. "Interesting…Very interesting."

He then slowly walked past Ivan, and it was all the young man to do to keep himself from gagging. The man smelled of alcohol and death!

Ivan quickly pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and cover his nose. He watched the man vanish up the street, feeling like he had just seen the Grim Reaper. Suddenly, a sharp tap on the shoulder nearly made him jump out of his skin. He spun around quickly to see Catherine, looking sternly up at him.

"Count Braginski, whatever is the matter?"

"I-" began Ivan, looking back where the man had went.

Catherine looked past Ivan, then back up at him. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure, but-" he trailed off.

Catherine pursed her lips and said, "Come now sir. The village governor has been wanting to see you. Honestly, I don't know what posses you to wander like this. Sir? Can you hear me?"

Ivan blinked a few times and looked back at the maid.

"Yes. Yes of course, how silly of me. Take me to him."

The maid led him back to the Inn , muttering, "I know I am but a feeble servant, but honestly my Count I do not know what gets into you sometimes."

Ivan simply nodded and followed her. His mind still going back to the strange priest and the smell.


End file.
